


Sit Ups, Kiss Ups

by MANGAMANIAC666



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Grinding, Make Out Session, Reader Insert, Smut, StanxReader, XReader, Young Stanley Pines, YoungStanxFemReader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MANGAMANIAC666/pseuds/MANGAMANIAC666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A smile broke out on his face. “One hundred and …”</p><p>Stan heaved his arms from behind his head, when he met up with your face again; his giant hands cupped your frame delicately. You had a fraction of a second to administer his hot lips on yours. They were soft, real soft. It sadly was prompt, and ended with a gratifying smacking sound. “…ten.”<br/>~<br/>Stan does sit ups and reader helps him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sit Ups, Kiss Ups

**Author's Note:**

> I recently posted this on my tumblr (@SupernovaShipper) and I just wanted to spread my work a bit more :)
> 
> I was going to add full on smut, but ive been busy, so these little xreader works are LEGIT just to blow off sexual steam XD

Stan would regularly do his exercises at the gym, nevertheless he didn’t like going back to the school gymnasium where he once boxed, says it gives his nasty vibes of his childhood. He would say it was the good and bad years of his childhood, he never actually knew what to feel when his dad forced him and his brother to box (Stanford, his shy brother you rarely talked to, Stan just says he not good with girls), his father was even harsher on him later when he did not linger on to take it up in his teenage years.

You met him before freshman year of high school and now he developed those muscles, biceps that bulged from his tight white shirt that he wore often to school. He wasn’t one for fashion investments. He likes to keep it simple, his own personal style, combined with the utmost laziness. Let’s say he liked to sleep in most mornings … fine, every morning.

It was his exercise routine of the day, you sat on your bed; you were supposed to be doing a project for English, but you lucked out given that you already finished it the other night, which entitled to free time spent at your house.

Out of the blue, he asked you to help him with his sit ups, observing you from your carpet. You coiled your lips, perplexed on why he would ask you to help him with the easiest exercise in existence. All you gotta do is lift your upper body as you lay down and boom, a sit up. Duh (You even had a small competition with him one time, you won of course. Loser bought ice cream).

You snickered, detaching your attentiveness from your Cosmopolitan magazine. You both were bathing in a serene atmosphere moments before, purely relishing each other’s company. The Rolling Stones lowly drifting through the air from the corner, mixing with the sounds from the open window, lighting the room in light orange from the now setting sun.

“You’re kidding, right Pines?”

He signaled you to come down and join him on the floor with a sly grin, an urgent finger curled smoothly, eyes fix on you. He was impatient alright. Typical Stanley.

You grunted, “You seriously gotta be kidding me.”

“Toots, would I ever play with you?” He suggested, getting himself secure on his elbows, anticipated for you to kneel down to his level.

You knitted your eyebrows, snorting. “You mammoth. Remember when we stole my baby brothers Stretch Armstrong, we had each end and you fucking promised not to let go and it whacked me in the face and left a bruise for days.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “It was a new improvement from that clown like makeup your wear.”

“My gosh, I don’t even know if that was a real compliment coming from you!”

Predictably, he gave you his sad, kicked puppy look, the one with the glossy shiny eyes and curled lips, little wines slipping from them in a high pitched tone. He was getting on your last nerves. He always uses that pathetic excuse on you to get what he wants. You glared up to the ceiling, sighing bitterly. You mumbled under your breath as you slid to the carpet, aggravated, “Why do I put with you?”

You somewhat skulk over to his end and securely place your hands down on his bare feet, feeling the hard, outlines of his bones. You forgot he abnormally wasn’t a fan of wearing socks when he wore his sneakers. Seeing as he sweats - which is torment on a very hot day - and you thanked gosh it wasn’t one of those days.

“What’s your goal this time?” You questioned in a gutsy tone as he began his gradual, easy pace. “Eighty? Ninety?”

Stan grinned energetically, and uttered among easy yet gruff pants, “The usual routine, [name].”

“Ah,” You smiled, “Your one hundred and ten a day! Nice.”

You laid your chin on his knees while he endured his habit, grunting silently after forty five, and is now on his efficient and steady rhythm, only now converging on the rush and delicate adrenaline. You watched coolly as he eventually sealed his eyes after seventy. It was refined to study him like this; he wasn’t even pulling a sweat, not a drop.

For a minute, when everything was calm, all you heard was the hitched breaths of Stan, and the beat of his advances. Seconds passed as it remarkably got you floating, leaning your cheek to his left knee without comprehending it.

You felt him physically halt, shattering you from your trance, you hurriedly glanced at him, inspecting him over.

“Oh, you done?” You inquired, nudging your nose on his knee, a giggle slipping from your lips.

He retained inaudible for a second as his dark eyes gaped at your impulsive deed, “Not yet,” Then, he counted, finishing the sit ups. “One hundred and five, one hundred and six …”

Under your long lashes, you comprehended that Stan’s face was closing in further and further to your face. You could feel his sultry breath, the developing intensity in his eyes. His rough grunts now sounding ticklish to your eardrums, nevertheless in a pleasurable way. You jostled away the reality of you shivering in delight.

A smile broke out on his face. “One hundred and …”

Stan heaved his arms from behind his head, when he met up with your face again; his giant hands cupped your frame delicately. You had a fraction of a second to administer his hot lips on yours. They were soft, real _soft_. It sadly was prompt, and ended with a gratifying smacking sound. “…ten.”

You blinked, emotionless as you stared off into space. He never parted, his nose touching yours sweetly, keeping his face close with poise. Gradually, his face blanked, a harsh blush covered Stan’s entire face straight away, then all at once you knew he felt remorse

“Oh shiii - [name] I’m so sorry! You must hate me,” He flustered aloud, almost in a uproar as he visibly panicked. He attempted to put his hands on your current, stiff shoulders, but hastily drawing them back out of fear. Like hovering above an intense candle.

“S-sorry … It was the heat of the moment, e-everything seemed right, felt right, I -”

Without any sense of wavering in your burning veins, you wholly lunged your entire body on top of his, binding your arms around his neck securely before you both landed together down on the floor. “Whoa!” He howled in shock, feeling your heavy body on his.

“Stanley,” You panted in breathless anticipation, burying your frenzied face next to his large neck. Tenderly, you shuffled your head, placing your lips right under Stan’s ear. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry about …that.” You whispered with sincerity, thinking twice if you should heed your action, however you instantly fucked such a insecurity, proceeding with your movement when you nipped his lobe thoughtfully.

You felt his hands glide up your vulnerable sides, consistently pacing himself, burrowing in, followed by restful stroke of velvety circles as one of the other hands clutched up. It all dissipated into enticing hot prints. When his hand was tangled in your hair, his fingertips carelessly rubbed at your scalp with illustrious softness.

Getting your face back to his level, you pushed your lips back collectively, smiling as you sighed into it. A rush of liberation and contentment swept over you, the electric tingles discharged through your bones right away.

You broke apart as you cooed, “That was amazing.”

The hand that was dipped down the crevasse of your back flipped you over and now Stan was positioned on top of you. You peered up, arms still tightly woven around his neck. Lovingly, you connected your bright, wide eyes with his long stare.

The spectacle took you aback, you in no way seen him with that roguish in his eyes, the obvious arousal.

“You’re telling me, feisty kitty.” Pressing your needy lips equally again. You utterly swore that took your breath away, stirring up a pool of heat beneath your stomach. More south. Your heart hammered on impulse in your chest, so much so it almost hurt - in a bittersweet way that is.

Your back curved into Stan’s thrilling contact as he sucked your neck like a craving. While doing so, his hand that was draped around your waist curled to the bottom of your shirt. You felt his fingers itching to expose more skin, feel more.

Everything he was doing was the foundation that led you to feel the burning heat in your lower region, and it continued to throb when Stan finally crumpled your shirt up to your neck, and then removed it, revealing your chest to him. A throaty whine lurched as it felt hypersensitive when he sucked the skin around your bra, right below your collarbone more than your neck beforehand. Particularly, for the reason that he combined a hot tongue following those hickies, relaxing the appealing sting.

Teasingly, he fiddled with the bra straps on your shoulders, caressing the skin underneath, in peaceful motions. You moaned more, your mind muddled up immeasurably and eyes going misty. Affectionately, your fingers raked through his hair, disarraying it.

Your back was a few inches off the ground and that gave Stan an opportunity to unclip your bra and throw it aside. You were unnerved to look him straight in the eye, but when you had the overpowering sense of amenity you cracked your eyes open to see him admiring your upper half.

You turned a shade of red when he managed a whisper. “Wow.” His tone laced with fondness.

“Stan -”

Hastily, he took off his white shirt and unbuckled his belt, your eyes grew. You knew what he wanted. Really, it’s not too evident that you wanted it as well, but first of all you needed some answers.

“Wait, Stan,” You snapped, finally getting him to stop before he leaned back over you, hands already in the midst of removing your pants.

“Yeah?” He replied, face flushed with bewilderment and hormones. You nearly cracked a smile.

“This,” You gestured up to him and yourself in your current state. “Is going great, however, w-well I was hoping this isn’t gonna be a one time dealio.” You let go the breath you weren’t aware you held and looked back to him.

He appeared … Offended.

“Why would you …? Oh.” He slumped back and his hand scratched the back of his neck, realizing how his need nearly blinded him. “I guess I’ll just be real honest with ya,”

You shuffled a bit closer, placing a hand on top of his that was clenched together in his lap, embarrassed. “I’d like that.” Then you said, feeling obliged to do so, “I should start -”

“No, [name]. I’m gonna.” He unclenched one of his hands and threaded through yours. “You cannot believe how much I wanted this … How much I wanna make you mine. Believe me doll, this is _not_ a one time gig. Nothing more, nothing less. I won’t cheat you out.”

Your heart leaped. You were going to respond, opening your mouth until he placed a quick finger over it. “Not done,” He whispered gently, blinking you nodded in acknowledgement.

Taking a deep, nervous inhale, he confessed, “I like you … sort of a lot! A gal like you is rare here. You’re funny, sweet, smart … Just overall pretty cool. It’s a damn miracle how ya put up with a chum like me!” You couldn’t stifle a laugh. His eyebrows knitted, looking agitated at your odd reaction. “What?”

Softly gripping his hand in reassurance, his expression immediately calmed. Locking gazes you smiled brightly. “You’re adorable when you confess your love the best you can for a ridiculous weirdo like me.” You shrugged nonchalantly, unconsciously rubbing his hand. “It’s nice to have that be returned, you know?”

He silently nodded.

You stood up, walking over to your bed, smiling confidently, fire in your eyes, knowing Stan was gawking your behind while you stripped off your pants slowly on purpose.

Give him a good show, right?

“Now, since we got over the important part, and your little friend is still up we’ll continue what we started.” You extended your hand up to him, his face turning red at your statement.

He gulped, covering it with a laugh. “Yeah.”

He took a step to your bed, his hand in yours and you yanked him in surprise, plopping him down, with you on top. Securely, both your thighs tightened around his hips, settling in. Next, your hands wandered from the waistband, over his adorable tummy, and to his chest hair curiously; Your lusted eyes fixated on his reaction.

His face was priceless, he was in shock but horny when you lightly grinded your damp underwear on his clothed dick as it leaked with evident precome where the tip presumably was. To clearly show your enjoying this you licked and bit your lip, craning your head back, pushing out and exposing your slightly bouncing breasts for his hungry eyes.

When he snapped out of his surprised trance, taken aback from your pure confidence to take control of steering the Stan O War. He grasped your hips roughly, fingers unbelievably hot, his nail digging in pleasurably.

It effectively increased your uproarious moans. Through half lidded eyes, you watched him inspecting your triggers, your sensitive area of skin. He enjoyed seeing you squirm. With ease, his hands dived over to cup your ass, his fingers dancing around the skin, clenching and unclenching, shooting shivers down your spine.

Then, he hooked one of fingers under your panty waistband, pulling it and snapping it back into place.

You heaved, relishing the sudden act.

Abruptly, you shot for his hands, grabbing them, then placing them over your breasts. Your hands moved from his hairy chest to his broad shoulders. Steadying yourself to grind a little more, you heaved your upper half to claim Stan’s lips in a steamy kiss while he simultaneously fondled your chest, stroking, squeezing and flicking the nub that got you squirming at the touch. “So _good_.”

None of this blocked your rich noises or the natural rhythm. This all sparked a sudden increase in thrust from Stan, yet he seemed hesitant, like he didn’t want to come too soon. His deep, gravelly pants were giving that notion.

Breathing out harshly between passionate kisses, clashed teeth and the intoxicating sensation of hot, slick tongue exploring that could potentially unravel your intense flame rather quick in that moment … Right there you remembered.

“Fuck - do you got a condom, Stanley?”

He breathed out, lips hovering over yours. “I’m not in you yet, baby,”

“Yet, Pines, _yet_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I DO take requests on tumblr, so stop by and shoot me a prompt that has anything to do with Stanford or Stanley pines and Reader insert! :D xx
> 
> (Who else is sad that Gravity Falls is ending soon?? :'(( )


End file.
